His task sounded simple, but it was not easy;
for he did not know where Rischenheim was, and so could not
prevent his coming; besides, the king had been very pleased to
learn of the count's approaching visit, since he desired to talk
with him on the subject of a certain breed of dogs, which the
count bred with great, his Majesty with only indifferent success;
therefore he had declared that nothing should interfere with his
reception of Rischenheim. In vain Sapt told him that a large boar
had been seen in the forest, and that a fine day's sport might be
expected if he would hunt next day. "I shouldn't be back in time
to see Rischenheim," said the king.
"Your Majesty would be back by nightfall," suggested Sapt.
"I should be too tired to talk to him, and I've a great deal to
discuss."
"You could sleep at the hunting-lodge, sire, and ride back to
receive the count next morning."
"I'm anxious to see him as soon as may be." Then he looked up at
Sapt with a sick man's quick suspicion. "Why shouldn't I see
him?" he asked.
"It's a pity to miss the boar, sire," was all Sapt's plea. The
king made light of it.
"Curse the boar!" said he. "I want to know how he gets the dogs'
coats so fine.
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